


Equinox

by WhereverYouAre36



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Death, Deity Au, M/M, Reincarnation, Soulmates, best friend/wingman phichit, fairy yurio, it's not descriptive because this is about reincarnation, rating for future chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9200996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereverYouAre36/pseuds/WhereverYouAre36
Summary: “This isn’t the time to get sentimental, Viktor. You know the deal. He’s made it to Detroit, and Phichit is going to watch out for him until the equinox, but if your small brain can’t figure out how to make him fall in love with you, he dies. Again. This time will hurt you both more than the first.” Yuri shot a look to Otabek, who looked like he didn’t appreciate this agreement any more than the rest of them. “And we don’t know how long it will be until we can reincarnate him again.”Viktor’s expression turned stoic, as cold as it always seemed to be. “You think I don’t run that scenario through my mind a thousand times a day? I don’t want to kill him again!” The world couldn’t survive another spout of winter’s grief. They had to get this right.





	1. Life

Winter on earth was blue. It was in the cerulean waters of the arctic to the ink sky against the aurora borealis. It was the color of crisp air in young lungs and the puff of breath in return. It was in the crowning wreath that adorned Viktor’s hair and the brightness in his eyes.

Yuuri once said that Viktor’s eyes were akin to the arctic—stunning. “Winter suits you,” said the man as he dragged his fingers through his lover’s silver locks.

“I would hope.” Viktor chuckled, lounging on Yuuri’s lap and draping his robe onto the floor. He had removed his wreath of blue roses woven by snowflakes, the frosted petals cutting like mountain caps. “But why state the obvious?”

“Because winter is beautiful.” Yuuri responded. It froze the world, but turned it into a fantasy. Frost glazed the once green grass, snow coated the fields, and icicles adorned trees like jewels. “And so are you.” Saying things like that always flustered Yuuri, but he wanted to spoil Viktor the same way Viktor indulged him.

Viktor pushed himself up and brushed his hair behind his shoulder to gain a better look at Yuuri. “I would beg to differ. Spring is beautiful. Spring makes winter _alive_.” Yuuri knew he should never have said anything, wanting to avoid the embarrassment. “From the flowers,” cool fingertips brushed over the wreath on Yuuri’s head – a ring of sakura – and left a small layer of frost coating them, “that bloom, to the animals coming out of hibernation. It’s like the world breathes again, and it absolutely melts winter’s icy heart.”

And while winter was blue, spring was pink, and red, and green, and yellow, and every color imaginable because to winter, spring was what brought him back to life.

But when winter lost spring, winter lost the color blue. Winter became gray. Winter was now the bleak afternoon sky that hid the sun, the poisoned snow that sickened animals, and the bite of blizzards that chilled to the bone.

When winter lost spring, it lost the battle to the ice that constantly threatened to coat its heart, and the world was spurred into the first ice age. With no spring, there could be no summer warmth nor autumn hues.

There was only gray.


	2. Loss

There had been rumors floating around Japan that their prized skater was leaving the country to train. Why he would want to do that when there were coaches and resources available in his home country was beyond any of them, but Yuuri had followed his instinct and boarded a plane to Detroit in order to study at a university and train under Celestino, a once world-renowned figure skater.

Yuuri had taken time off after high school to help with the onsen but left in January to begin the spring semester in the US. He arrived at Detroit Metropolitan Airport in less than favorable conditions with temperatures bordering freezing, but he was reassured it was nothing that the airport and drivers couldn’t handle. By the time Yuuri was in a taxi bound for his new dorm, it had escalated into an outright blizzard.

Traffic stalled for nearly an hour, and it was one of the most awkward hours of his life. Growing up in Japan he had studied English throughout his school career, but he was hardly proficient, and could maybe, if he tried, get by with ordering at a restaurant or talking about the weather. The next week he was supposed to start his English courses, but that certainly didn’t help him right now. The taxi driver – Kurt, he was pretty sure the nametag read - was attempting conversation, and when he couldn’t understand, shifted into exaggerated motions that quite honestly terrified Yuuri.

When, blessedly, it was time for traffic to pick up its pace again, Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief – but cut it short when good old Kurt whipped them into traffic – and watched the cityscape roll by.

After a sixteen hour flight and the entire experience that was _Kurt_ and his taxi that smelled like tacos and wet dog, Yuuri was understandably jet lagged and exhausted. All he wanted was a shower and a good night’s rest, but first he had to navigate the halls of his new dorm wondering who on earth designs these maze-like places. He was certain that some divine power was laughing at his day.

Could he catch a _break_? He was jet lagged, cold, tired, grumpy, taxid (he was sure that was an adjective), _lost in his own dorm_ and –

“Cheeeeeese!” A phone was in front of his face and a dark-skinned boy was standing beside him uncomfortably close for two people just meeting. Yuuri jolted. Add _culture shock_ to the growing list of misfortunes that day.

The stranger tapped his thumbs away at his phone at a speed Yuuri didn’t know was human, but Yuuri determined he was captioning the photo.

“…and _#roomates_!” The picture was posted, and the selfie culprit cheered before turning his chocolate eyes up to Yuuri’s, and Yuuri was taken aback by a strike of déjà vu.

“Have we – “ Yuuri began in Japanese before trying to switch to English.

“I’m Phichit!” He was interrupted in strangely good Japanese. “I know who you are, Yuuri!” The boy looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Phichit was so amused he had to snap another picture. “Sorry sorry, I won’t put that one on Instagram, but you looked pretty shocked. Don’t you remember me? We’re roommates now! Can you believe how small a world it is?”

And finally it registered. Years ago they had competed at a small competition hosted in Japan that included skaters from surrounding countries. Phichit was in his age group, so they competed against one another. He won, and Phichit took silver…or was it the other way around?

“Come on!” Phichit grabbed one of Yuuri’s bags and began to drag the stunned boy to their room. “It’s pretty confusing around here. One of the upperclassmen helped me find my room, but I would have been wandering around looking just as hopeless as you did without him. Sorry Yuuri, but you looked pretty funny.” It was accompanied with a laugh to himself. Yuuri found the laugh to be contagious and, despite his shitty day, he laughed in return.

Yuuri chose the bed next to the windowsill, albeit with a bit of protest from Phichit. Apparently the Thai boy rose with the sun and liked to watch the sun rise over the horizon. At Yuuri’s look of disgust, Phichit defended himself. “The sunrise is the most beautiful part of the day! The night is dark, but then the sun comes, and it makes everything alive again.”

“Fine.” Yuuri conceded to Phichit’s passionate declaration, allowing him the bed, and pulled bags of seeds out of his bag. “But, um, I want my plants to be by you then.” Hopefully Phichit wouldn’t pry, but of course he did.

His roommate crossed the invisible line in their room dividing their respective halves. “You have plants? What kind? I didn’t know you liked them.”

“Well…” His passion wasn’t something he broadcasted to many, and it was mainly confined to the walls of Yutopia. “It started when I was younger and made a little garden in my family’s inn. My mom always did say I had a green thumb.” Shewas always so encouraging. He missed her. “Since then, my mom cooks with the vegetables I grow, and I keep flowers in my room. They’re beautiful.”

Yuuri worried that Phichit would think it was silly of him, but his roommate only flashed that beaming smile of his. “I think that’s wonderful, Yuuri. I think we have room for four…maybe five pots over there. Sorry, there isn’t much room here.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect –“

“What’s your favorite flower, Yuuri?” Phichit interrupted. Yuuri couldn’t see what it was, but the younger was setting something on the windowsill.

“Sakura,” he said. “There’s a tree right outside my window, and it’s the prettiest in Hasetsu when it’s in full bloom. When I was little, there was a blizzard in Kyushu, the first in recorded history in April, but the way the snow fell on it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Even though he was so young, the image of the frost creeping over the pastel, yet so _alive,_ petals left a strong impression on him.

Phichit had turned to give him one of the many versions of “Phichit smiles.” This one wasn’t like the one that rivaled the sun, but was softer and homey, like embers in a fire. “Do you like winter?”

“Winter? Winter is usually mild in Hasetsu, but it’s not very pretty. The winter here hasn’t been so bad here so far, except when my flight first came in.” For being February in Detroit, it was warm. “I guess winter isn’t that impressive.”

Yuuri had seen Phichit’s face of disappointment before, the precise second that he mentioned he hadn’t seen The King and the Skater years ago, but not even that had surged Phichit to get so close Yuuri was admiring his winged liner. “Not that impressive? Yuuri, you _love_ winter, you – “ The Thai boy caught himself then, something changing in his eyes. “I mean, winter is so pretty, isn’t it? When he’s not being rude and freezing everything that summer worked _so hard_ on- “

“Phichit, what are you –“

“Ahh nothing, nothing.” And just like that, Phichit’s smile was back on his face, and a sheepish hand moved to the back of his neck. Hoping to change the subject, the boy reached over to what he placed on the windowsill earlier, which Yuuri now realized was a statue – a fairy. “Isn’t this pretty? I picked it up at a weird store on my way here, and it was cheap, so I thought why not.”

Striking eyes the color of seafoam caught Yuuri’s, and flowing blonde hair cast off the shoulder in a braid so intricate Yuuri could hardly believe it was carved. The attire reminded him of one of Yuuri’s own figure skating outfits from his Junior days, though far more whimsical. The outfit and wings were icy and woven with snowflakes, each individual flake special and unique. “She’s a beautiful fairy.”

Was it just him or did that fairy suddenly look _pissed_?

“Ah, Yuuri, I think it’s a boy fairy.” Phichit looked like he was struggling not to laugh, really, he was trying.

Before Yuuri could respond, he was knocked in the head by an object flying in from the window – something round, white, and that _packed a punch_. His glasses flew clear off his face. As his eyes focused, he saw a smattering of dust across the glasses. Picking them up, he noticed they were cold. Was that…was that a snowball?

Despite the fact that it was nearly fifty degrees Fahrenheit in Detroit, a masterfully crafted snowball had struck him. Yuuri decided he had pissed off some divine power.

And why did that fairy look so smug?

\--------

 

“A girl! He called me a girl!” The boy stormed through the gates, wings fluttering angrily behind him. “Viktor, he had better never return home or I swear – “

And before Yuri could say something to truly anger Viktor, strong and soothing hands spread over his shoulders. “You’re tense, Yura.” Death was behind him, welcoming him into his embrace. The fairy instantaneously relaxed into the touch and lay his head against Otabek’s shoulder.

“But he called me a girl. He says that as if his own lover doesn’t have hair longer than mine.” Yuri was only griping to gripe at this point, something Otabek knew all too well. After having loved the fairy for centuries, he expected the quick tongue he possessed, but also understood when his ramblings were out of frustration and fear.

Death killed many things, and did so justly, but the day Christophe jabbed that the most important thing he killed was Yuri’s fury was the first time the fairy had truly wanted to murder a god. He may have been the one that had paired them, but he was definitely the most insufferable.

Otabek stroked over the edge of a wing—touch always caused Yuri to melt. No one, be it god or mortal, touched his wings except Otabek or they would have things far greater than death to worry about. “He probably just thought you were beautiful. Humans associate beauty with femininity sometimes. Your hair is long and braided. It was a simple mistake.”

After calming his lover, Otabek guided Yuri to where Viktor was amongst the mingling gods. He was alone, as he always seemed to be. “Oi,” called Yuri.

Viktor turned on his heel towards the sound, surprised to see his companion back so soon. “Yuri?” And with a gait to his step that had been missing for so long, he all but cornered the fairy. “How is he? How is my Yuuri?”

Yuri had half a mind to snap, but he could hear the desperation in Viktor’s voice and the need in his eyes – his dim, gray eyes. “He’s an idiot. How he’s survived this long, I’ll never know, but he’s with Phichit now. He’s got plants in their room. Plants.”

A noise that could be mistaken for a chuckle escaped Viktor, and there was a bit of a sparkle back to his expression. “Of course he does. They’ll bloom. He has a touch for that.” Yuri was close to scoffing but decided to corral the lover boy in.

“This isn’t the time to get sentimental, Viktor. You know the deal. He’s made it to Detroit, and Phichit is going to watch out for him until the equinox, but if your small brain can’t figure out how to make him fall in love with you, he dies. Again. This time will hurt you both more than the first.” Yuri shot a look to Otabek, who looked like he didn’t appreciate this agreement any more than the rest of them. “And we don’t know how many millennia it will be until we can reincarnate him again.”

Viktor’s expression turned stoic, as cold as it always seemed to be. “You think I don’t run that scenario through my mind a thousand times a day? I don’t _want_ to kill him again!” The world couldn’t survive another spout of winter’s grief. They had to get this right.

“I just need to know, is he happy now?” Viktor’s expression quietened then, returning to his semi-normal state.

Yuri’s wings folded in. “Happy enough. He’s a damn good figure skater, one that can’t jump to save his life, but he’s good.” No doubt Yuri could be better, if he were human and feeling up to the task. His competitive nature always got the best of him, as if he wasn’t already the only one close enough to Viktor to cross the bridge to earth and do his biddings for him. Carrying the frost, he was used to, but watching over Yuuri was a task for an army.

And so the two talked, and Yuri told Viktor all he could about the boy. He was shy, respectful, a bundle of anxiety and self-doubt, but he carried himself on the ice like he was home. And to Viktor, he was.

The equinox was only three months away, hardly a second to the deity who had existed since time itself, yet he could feel every second until he could reunite with Yuuri grate at him as a reminder of what he had done.

\----------

 _“What did he do?”_ The gossipers whispered.

 _“He felt too deeply,”_ replied Love. _“Spring melted his heart, and in return Winter froze his.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me on this adventure of work that clearly got away from me. Any and all feedback is appreciated, and the lore for this universe will be explained throughout the work. Thank you!


	3. Wander

January bled into February, and life settled for Yuuri.

Winter was on its last leg and would soon fade into spring. He never expected spring in America to be the same as Japan, but he was nostalgic for the subtle shift of Hasetsu seasons. He missed the chill of winter being broken by the promise of life in the sakura, and the sun that would finally emerge from the winter clouds. It was warm, but America didn’t feel that way to him yet.

But Yuuri found warmth in other ways. Warmth was in the guidance of his coach and late night movies with Phichit when they watched _The King and the Skater_ for the thirtieth time, the questionable dining hall food, and the first quad toe-loop he landed. Bit by bit he carved a life for himself.

The dorm room he and Phichit shared became a haven to him. Some days were hard to power through, especially when he noticed himself falling far behind in skating. Other days he couldn’t find the words in English to converse with anyone other than Phichit. When these spells came over him, he found solace in the sprouting plants by the windowsill and flipped through old photos of home.

Then he twisted his ankle after a failed quad-salchow attempt and was put to bed for the day to ice his ankle. Phichit wanted to stay beside him, but Celestino had all but forced him to go back to practice. After a quick selfie and caption of  _#wrekt #getbettersoon!_ , Yuuri was alone. It was the first time he had been truly alone since moving to America, and it unnerved him. Sure, he had had a couple hours to himself when Phichit was showering or fetching takeout, but never for an extended period of time. There was no one he could contact—or at least no one he felt he could justify contacting, telling himself they were all too busy to bother with someone who had only twisted his ankle.

After a failed attempt to stream Netflix, Yuuri shut his laptop and stared at the ceiling.

This was pathetic, he thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else. His eyes drifted over to the figurine on the windowsill, and he wondered for the hundredth time if the little fairy had changed position. “I’m sorry I called you a girl.” Why he was apologizing to a figurine for a month-old insult, he didn’t know.

And then the words poured out, Yuuri babbling to the statue for no other reason except to talk to some(one?)thing. It was cathartic and eased his racing mind. He knew this was crazy, but the fairy listened to him and didn’t judge when he admitted his fears and weaknesses.

“I’m worried I won’t ever fit in anywhere,” he admitted. “Hasetsu was home, and Detroit is growing on me, but it just doesn’t feel any different. That’s one of the reasons I moved here, to see if I could feel something anywhere else. I’ve felt… _something_ , somewhere before, but I just don’t know what it is. I feel like I’m chasing something I can’t reach.” And maybe he did sound like some moody teenager, but he couldn’t deny what he felt.

And it was then that the door opened, and Yuuri was greeted by the familiar scent of dining hall takeout. Phichit stood in the doorway, brows furrowed. “Were you talking to someone?” He asked.

“No.” Yuuri’s reply was quick and vehement, causing Phichit’s lips to tug upward.

“There’s no one in this room but you, and I know I heard your voice.” He stepped forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, who was it?”

“I wasn’t talking to anyone!”

“So you _were_ talking!”

“I was talking to myself!”

The younger’s eyes flitted over to the little fairy statue, and Phichit’s composure crumbled. “Yuuri, were you talking to the _statue_?”

_“No!”_

* * *

 

 

In his realm, Viktor owned a forest blanketed in downy snow. He liked to retreat there when his sins grew too much to bear. The only person who ever came to this part was Yuri to gather the frost when he visited Earth.

Long ago there was life here, when winter was tied into spring, and the shift between seasons was harmonious. Now there was only winter who left eternal snow.

Viktor sat beside a frozen pond, the very one he used to dip his feet in with Yuuri and laugh as the fish nibbled at his toes.

Snow crunched behind him, and Viktor jolted to his feet. Yuri was the only person who came here, and he had no use for walking. There was no wildlife, as they had died with the spring. Glancing around in confusion, Viktor’s eyes landed on something, or rather someone, that shouldn’t have been here.

Humans couldn’t cross the bridge.

“Yuuri?” He breathed, immediately floored by the sight of Yuuri only a few steps away, hair disheveled and dressed in human garb. He was the most beautiful thing Viktor had ever seen.

Yuuri whipped his head around, eyes focusing on the god behind his glasses. The man before him was tall, ethereal, and draped in robes so unique he could never dream of a design that intricate. He felt largely inadequate in his t-shirt and boxers. “You know me?” He asked, hesitant and confused.

Of course Viktor knew him, knew him better than he knew himself, and it was all that the god had not to close the barrier and pull Yuuri into his arms. Tears threatened to form in his eyes, but he restrained himself. If that was truly Yuuri, he knew the consequences of touching him. “I do. How are you here?” Viktor’s voice was hardly above a whisper.

“I don’t know.” Yuuri placed a hand on the back of his neck. Despite the snow, he wasn’t cold. “This is a weird dream.” That was said to himself. “Who are you?”

A dream. Viktor would have some choice words to say to a certain god later, but for now, he had to find a way to wake Yuuri up. He wasn’t safe here, not around him, especially not with how Viktor’s core ached for him.

“I’m Viktor.” His smile was dry. “I don’t know how you got here, but you should probably leave. Now.”

“Wha–? It’s not like I’m controlling this! I’ll wake up in the morning and forget all about this anyway.”

By now Viktor thought he would have grown used to Yuuri not knowing who he was, but it still crushed him. “It’s not safe for you here,” he explained, attempting to step back, but he was caught in Yuuri’s pull.

Yuuri stopped attempting to figure out where he was and addressed Viktor fully. “This is a dream. I’m not going anywhere. Why are you dressed like that?” _And why are you so hot?_ he nearly added.

“This is how I always dress.” And how Yuuri should be dressed as well. As wrong as it was for Yuuri to be here, would it be so bad if Viktor indulged just a bit? With hardly a wave of his hand, Yuuri’s crown appeared across his head, the wreath of sakura that complimented the pink of his cheeks and flush at his throat. “There,” he said, “you’re nearly perfect.”

Hesitant fingers rose to touch the piece before Yuuri left it to dream logic.

“You had robes like these too,” Viktor hummed, and at his thought they materialized. Long, green robes with an obi around the waist covered Yuuri. They were elegant, and Viktor wondered if Yuuri knew how he should carry himself in them. “These were my favorite. You loved the way the colors fell, and I loved the way you brought life into them.” In the folds of the garment, small flowers bloomed before disappearing in a constant pattern down the train.

The equinox was another month away, and yet Viktor was looking at spring in all his glory, and he briefly wondered if there was some way that Yuuri could take his throne again that very night, that the king had pardoned them and decided Viktor had suffered enough.

Apparently he must suffer more. “What do you mean, I had them?” Yuuri was all but rendered speechless by the grandeur of the garment, scared to even touch it.

“You wore this on the day of our wedding.” He was saying too much, he knew, yet he couldn’t stop his stupid mouth. “That was the best day of my existence. The day spring was going to eternally thaw winter’s heart.”  He smiled wryly.

“I don’t know –“

“I know you don’t. It’s best you don’t.” It was best if Yuuri fled far away from here and never talked to him again, yet he couldn’t bring himself to cast Yuuri away, and he didn’t know how to wake him up.

“Are you ever going to stop speaking in riddles?” Yuuri pouted, and Viktor fought the urge to kiss the expression away. “Don’t answer that with another riddle.”

Viktor hid a laugh behind his hand—his first laugh in a millennia. “I think it’s time for you to wake up, Yura.”

“You answered in another riddle! This is my dream, so I can do what I want, right?” He stepped forward. “You said we were _married?_ You’re in my dream, so you should tell me what’s going on.” It made sense enough to him. He moved again, and suddenly Viktor realized that he was _far_ too close.

When Yuuri used to approach him like this, Viktor would fluster him with little kisses and whispers of his love, or he would trail his fingertips up his spine suggestively before leading them to bed. But now Yuuri approaching him was terrifying. “Wait – “ Viktor tried to warn, but Yuuri was reaching forward, and instinctually Viktor pushed him back.

That was his first real mistake since he had killed Yuuri.

“Yuuri? _Yuuri_!” Warm hands were shaking him awake, and Yuuri snapped his eyes open to find Phichit above him. A part of his mind processed the fact that he had never seen Phichit look so serious, but the other part focused on how profoundly _cold_ he was.

“Ah!” Yuuri shot up and fisted a hand into his shirt. His body shook violently from what felt like an icy stab to the heart and the blood in his veins freezing. “P-Phichit.” He had never felt something so incapacitating, and it frightened him. “C-Cold. So cold.” He didn’t know if he was intelligible or not through his panic and the frost in his body, but suddenly Phichit’s arms were around him, warm and soothing.

“Listen to me Yuuri.” His voice was slow and easy, but there was an edge of panic to it as well. “Just – listen to me.” And Phichit was trying so desperately to ramble to take Yuuri’s mind off anything but the ice in his veins, but it proved difficult when his best friend continued to shake so violently it looked like he was seizing.

In the morning Phichit would insist that Yuuri’s lips hadn’t turned blue and that the reason his toes were numb was because he had messed up his ankle more than originally thought.

He would also deny that Yuuri’s human heart nearly stopped.

Summer couldn’t thaw Winter as easily as Spring.

* * *

 

Three days later Yuuri sat in the university’s coffee shop, bundled in a heavy winter coat and mittens as he sipped hot green tea. After he woke up from the nightmare that Phichit swore never happened, pinky promise and all, Yuuri suffered a bad case of the chills and couldn’t get warm no matter how he tried. The doctors told him it was a bad cold, but he had a hard time believing that.

His mind often drifted back to the ethereal man in the woods. It was similar to a scene out of those stupid books his sister used to read, cliché as could be, but engrossing nonetheless. Yuuri couldn’t stop thinking about his – Viktor’s – dim, gray eyes. They looked sad, and it unsettled him. They should be different, he thought, not desolate as they were.

“Yuuri!” Phichit’s usual chipper dragged Yuuri from his thoughts, and he glanced up to his best friend entering the café with…who? “Surprise visitor, sorry for just throwing it on you, but my cousin flew in from Russia. He’s going to stay with us.”

Cousin? Russia? Staying with them in their tiny dorm room? All this was coming at him so quickly Yuuri wasn’t sure he had the mental capacity to keep up and— _who dressed this kid?_

Standing beside Phichit was someone clearly foreign with shoulder-length blond hair and an outfit that looked like he had raided the clearance rack of Hot Topic. Yuuri sized him up to be sixteen or seventeen, and his eyes sharp were enough to kill yet still felt so familiar.

“Ah – nice to meet you, I’m Yuuri Katsuki.” He held a hand out for the alleged Russian cousin to shake.

Yuri stared at the hand like it had seven fingers before finally just slapping it away with his own. “Moron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support in the first chapter. Really, all your comments brighten up my day and give me more motivation to write.
> 
> I'm curious as to what people think the roles every one will play, as every character serves a purpose to Yuuri.


	4. New

Three things Yuri was sure of.

One, the air mattress he slept on between Phichit and Yuuri’s bed was an absolute sack of crap. He missed the downy fields of freshly fallen snow or, more recently in the past few centuries, Otabek’s bed.

Two, he missed Otabek. A lot. Viktor had better make a worldwide holiday in his name for separating him from his lover so that he could play babysitter. So what if Yuuri had almost died again. That wasn’t his fault. Blame Georgi, the dreamer god and pain-in-his-ass, for bringing Yuuri to Viktor’s realm that night. Of course Georgi didn’t care about the consequences; he thought it would be oh so beautiful and romantic to reunite the star-crossed lovers. Yeah, right.

It _had_ been pretty entertaining to watch Viktor rip him a new one for that, though.

Three, he hated, emphasis on _hated_ , Phichit’s hamsters. Sure the little devils were cute at face value, all cuddled up to Phichit and begging for attention, but don’t let that fool you. The demons _will_ run all night and keep you with your eyes plastered to the ceiling at three am. If he wasn’t so concerned that Summer would melt him, he would have thrown the damn wheel across the room to get some shut eye.

Yuri was irritable to begin with (something that could be attributed to a clear lack of Otabek) and now was even more irritable due to the bags growing under his eyes.

His arrival, of course, had been unannounced and unplanned. The fact that Spring had believed Phichit had some estranged Russian cousin wasn’t surprising to him. Yuuri would believe him if he said he had an identical twin that lived in the room half the time. Moron. If it weren’t for Yuuri almost dying before his time again, he’d still be the pretty little fairy statue that Yuuri hadn’t noticed was missing from the windowsill.

There were times that were enjoyable despite all the frustrations. It was, despite however much he denied it, entertaining to watch Yuuri skate. The way he glided over the ice reminded him of when he was a child born in Winter’s realm and left under Viktor and Yuuri’s care.

He had been no more than a snowflake, one that would have melted under Spring’s touch, but when Viktor caught him in the palm of his hand and breathed life into him, he became more than snow – he became a part of Viktor. Yuri was his own being but carried a piece of Viktor’s power inside of him. It came at a price, though. He only held a fraction of Viktor’s power, and despite Death granting him a soul, he was frail, neither human nor god. One wrong step on Winter’s ice would freeze him entirely, and one trip into Yuuri’s fields would melt him.

So Viktor carved him wings, which imbued strength and freedom, and gave him a duty that provided him a purpose and Viktor’s protection. Every morning he carried the frost to Earth, although his powers also manifested blizzards during arguments with Otabek.

What?

It wasn’t like he started it.

Nonetheless, to the world, he was frost.

To Viktor and Yuuri, he was their little Yurachka.

* * *

 

“Hey, katsudon.” Yuri glanced over to the elder. The (not so) affectionate nickname had occurred when he tired of Phichit pulling Yuri and Yuuri jokes, and, Yuri wasn’t about to change his name when Yuuri was the human.

“Mm?” Yuuri lifted his gaze from a book to the boy on the air mattress.

Yuri rolled over and threw his arms above his head in frustration, thudding the sack of air (as Yuri liked to refer to it). “I’m bored. What is there to do around here?”

It wasn’t often that they were without Phichit there to converse. “Well, there’s skating.” He dogeared the page and set the book aside. “Sometimes I’ll get tea from the café on campus or go to the library.” Between skating and school, there wasn’t much time for anything else. “Netflix?”

Yuri looked him up and down, and Yuuri wondered why he was so self-conscious over being judged by this teenage boy with poor fashion taste.

“Really?” Yuri asked.

Yuuri was given a second chance at life, and _this_ was what he did with it?

“Really.”

“Moron.” Yuri stood up and tugged on a jacket, not that he really needed it. “Alright, come on. We’re going to that café you talked about, and you’re going to buy me something.” Now that he could ingest human food, coffee was like the nectar of the gods to him.

And that’s how Yuuri found himself in the cramped little coffee shop, hands around a steaming cup of green tea and feeling very watched by the teen across the table from him. Striking up conversations wasn’t his forte, especially with this kid. Everything he said ended in Yuri snapping or calling him a moron. Sometimes he found it nostalgic. He never knew for what, considering no one he had ever met acted like this, but it was comforting. Endearing, sometimes.

“Two weeks,” said Yuri, causing the elder to cock his head in confusion. “Until spring, dummy. Two weeks until spring, and it’s not cold as hell out here anymore.”

“Oh.” Yuuri glanced down into the steam of his tea. “Do you not like winter? I though Russians loved winter.”

“Winter is a pain in the ass.” Yuri instantly replied. “But the snow is cool. I like the snow.”

“I like it when it gets warmer, but I’ve always had a soft spot for winter –“

“Spare me.” Yuri moved his hand to his throat, mimicking a gag.

“Huh?”

But Yuri didn’t elaborate further. “Are you happy?” He acted like it was a chore to say that, but the slight tint to his cheeks betrayed that.

“Happy?” Yuuri’s eyes flitted from his mug to Yuri. “I guess so. I have skating and my coach, I’m lucky to be able to do what I love, right?” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“My dog died a while ago, so I guess that’s all I really have to not be happy about.” Of course Yuuri would see Vicchan again, albeit named differently. Viktor and Yuri had missed Makkachin dearly during the dog’s time on Earth, but they had decided that Yuuri needed a childhood companion. If all went well, Yuuri would see their little poodle again soon.

“So you’re happy, but you’re not happy?” He was probably homesick. Or Viktorsick. He felt Otabeksick, so he supposed it was a thing.

Yuuri shrugged. “I have good friends and a loving family.” The human friends and family would miss Yurri when he left, Yuri was sure, but it was really for the best. Besides, Spring should be able to visit them when they died. It was handy to be on good terms with the god of death.

The younger opened his mouth, but the server carrying Yuri’s pastry accidentally dropped the treat directly into Yuri’s lap, staining his ripped leopard skinny jeans. Thank god, Yuuri would later think, but right then he scrambled for napkins.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” The server exclaimed. Yuuri recognized him as the Chinese boy who just transferred to their rink in an exchange program. Though he had been under the impression the exchange was only for a week. He decided now was not the time to think too deeply into it and – oh dear Yuri was pissed.

“Are you fucking kidding me Guang Hong?!” Yuri seethed, glaring up at him. “My boyfriend could _kill_ you, you know!”

Yuuri immediately flailed and tried to amend the situation because, goodness, the server looked hardly seventeen and as innocent as could be. “Ah! He doesn’t mean literally!”

Yes, he did, in the most literal sense actually.

Yuuri hastily continued. “It was just an accident, Yuri. We can buy new pants later.”

Yuri eventually huffed and looked away.

“Whatever.” He picked the pastry out of his lap, dropped it onto the plate, and wiped his jeans off with napkins. “Just…don’t do it again.”

Guang Hong bowed slightly to him. “I’m sorry.” He turned to Yuuri. “I – ah, hope you enjoy your tea. Thank you for your kindness.” The younger smiled and returned behind the counter.

Yuuri’s eyes followed him. “Have I met—“

“No.” Yuri rolled his eyes at the look Yuuri gave him. “You seriously think you’ve met some random boy who was only here for a week?”

They had, though, Yuri knew that all too well. Fall didn’t always obey orders and acted rather rashly sometimes. Still, Yuri had to give him props for coming here as well to check on his friend. The youngest season truly did care.

Yuuri deflated. “I guess you’re right.” For a while after they drank in the first comfortable silence that passed between them.

The moment shattered when Death quite literally walked through the door.

“Yura.” Otabek walked with purpose to the younger and – what the hell was he wearing? He’d have to inquire later.

“Beka!” The boy jumped out of his seat and clutched to the other boy like his life depended on it.

Otabek hugged him back. It had been so long since he had seen his lover. Despite the sweet reunion, however, he couldn’t savor it.

“Yura.” He leaned closer so the humans wouldn’t hear. “We have to leave, now. Say goodbye to Yuuri.”

Yuri pulled back slightly. Why would death of all people be here? There was no threat of anyone dying, and very rarely did Otabek make in-person collections unless it was urgent.

But there death stood, in the middle of a university coffee shop in Detroit, holding his lover close.

“It’s winter,” said Otabek, “he’s thawing, permanently.”

“You mean he’s –“ Yuri’s trembling voice couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes. Dying.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post this chapter in two parts since it had been a little bit since I've updated. University started again this week and between classes and spending time with all my friends there isn't as much time to write, but I will try to keep this updated regularly!
> 
> So Guang Hong is Autumn, since some people have been asking and he is very concerned for his friend. I love him.


	5. Meet

Phichit liked to remember.

He liked to remember when he was a child, and the first time he met Yuuri, Guang Hong, and even Viktor despite his chilliness. He liked to remember when he stood beside Yuuri at his wedding to Viktor, and the way the sakura that adorned his hair was coated with a thin layer of frost.

But then he watched Viktor freeze his heart and kill his best friend.

That, he did not like to remember. Just as Yuuri was a part of Winter, he was a part of summer. Phichit depended on Spring to give him the warmth and power to sustain until autumn. The cycle worked on power exchange, and it worked harmoniously for centuries until the accident.

Even then, Phichit didn’t know the details of what happened – didn’t want to know, and Viktor refused to tell anyone anyway. It was too painful a reminder of what he had done. The same way that they had been created to love each other, Winter was always built to destroy Spring. Every year Spring became shorter and shorter, the chill of winter lasting longer until it bled into the heat. Ice and frost always trumped gentle warmth.

Viktor was inconsolable for centuries, and it was all Phichit could do to use his power to dictate both spring and summer, but he was growing weaker, and so was Viktor.

Viktor borrowed Summer’s warmth and cooled it with his frost to maintain a pseudo-spring. It worked for a while, but the heart and life that Spring once brought was lost. And now, Viktor’s grief and power were waning, and he was dying.

It was all the Frost could do to be by Winter’s side until the date of the Equinox.

In the week leading up to the date, Phichit grew anxious. Viktor, under the agreement that had been forged with his own blood, had that one day to make Yuuri fall for him again. The Equinox was when Yuuri would be at his strongest, albeit unknowingly, and it was the only day that Viktor could stay in the human world without draining his power.

If Viktor couldn’t woo the boy within that one day, Yuuri would die, and Phichit didn’t know if they would have the power to sustain the world for the next few centuries while Otabek forged through the souls of the dead in order to find the lost God and reincarnate him.

But forcing Yuuri to fall in love wasn’t plausible. Though Yuuri was created with the intent to thaw Winter’s heart and balance the world once more, that didn’t mean that _human_ Yuuri would instantly love him the same way he once had. This Yuuri was quiet and reserved. Yuuri wouldn’t ever declare love on the first date, much less his first _ever_ date.

“Yuuri.” Phichit was sprawled across his bed with three little hamsters scurrying over his chest.

“Mmm?” Yuuri’s gaze remained on the pages of his book; the plot was just starting to get interesting.

“I’ve set you up on a date.”

“You _what_?” The book fell off Yuuri’s bed with a thud, bending the aged pages unceremoniously.

“A date.” Phichit looked over at his friend, trying to appear nonchalant, but he was secretly attempting to devise a plan to hype this man up so much that Yuuri would just _have_ to wine and dine him instead of immediately turning him down. “You remember my cousin Yuri? His brother is coming into town, and he’s looking for someone to show him around, so I threw your name out there and he bit.”

Yuuri took a second to readjust his glasses and turn to give his best friend that _look_. “Why me? I’m not exactly the best entertainer.”

Phichit picked up his hamsters, feeling them squirm in his palms. He fully rolled over to face his friend. “Because you’re hopelessly single -”

“So are you.”

“ _And_ I know he happens to like cute Japanese boys that put on a few pounds easily.” Phichit winked.

Yuuri groaned.  He supposed he’d have to lay off the instant ramen.

Yuuri reached for his book and tried to smooth out the pages. “I don’t know. I could ask Minami from my bio lab.” He was a little younger than them. However, he was bright and always happy to see Yuuri. Surely the boy could entertain.

“Sorry Yuuri, but I’ve already booked the reservations at your favorite restaurant under the name Katsuki.”

Yuuri only groaned in return. Phichit knew all his moves even before he did, and it was _so_ annoying. “I’m still not sure about this, Phichit.”

“Trust me, the second you see Viktor,” the Thai framed his fingers in a square and looked through it with one eye, “you’ll be hooked. Trust me, I think he’s just your type.”

“Long, tan, and handsome?” Yuuri jabbed.

“More like long, pale, and model-level gorgeous.” He didn’t even consider the fact it could be strange to say those things about his alleged “cousin.” Hopping up from the bed, he placed his hamsters in their cage and grabbed a thick coat. “Come on.”

 “Where are we going?” Yuuri already dreaded the answer.

“The mall.” Phichit examined Yuuri’s attire up and down. “No best friend of mine is going on a date looking like you are.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Everything.”

When a warm hand clasped around Yuuri’s wrist and pulled him out of the bed with uncanny strength, he knew there was no sense in trying to escape.

When faced with fashion, Phichit was savage.

* * *

 

When Yuri was a child, he liked to play. He liked to roll through the snow, gather bits on his wings to spray at Viktor and Yuuri, and laugh at their expressions of surprise. No matter how many times he did it, they always laughed and encouraged him to play more, especially Spring.

Spring, whose earthy eyes and firm hugs radiated warmth and ease. Spring,  who always held him through his tantrums and made him feel better by summoning little kittens for him to pet and eventually fall asleep with.

Winter, too. He liked Winter, though he wouldn’t ever say it outright. Winter cared for him and taught him all he needed to know about the world. He even managed to gather a little audience for the first time Yuri learned to fly. Seeing the pride in Spring and Winter’s faces when he flew was embarrassing as could be, but not _nearly_ as embarrassing as when Death approached him.

Death, at that time, appeared barely over twelve years old. It was a compliment to the youth Yuri wore, but by then Death had been that age since the beginning of time.

“Your form was good.” Otabek’s dark eyes met Yuri’s green ones easily. “You looked determined, like a soldier.” It was the fire in his eyes, the _need_ to get his feet off the ground that drew Otabek in. Yuuri and Viktor oh so wished they could have captured the flush that spread all the way to their little Yurachka’s ears at that moment.

Love chose that moment to approach his best friend and sling an arm around Viktor’s shoulder. “They’re going to get married one day. Congratulations, Viktor, you’ve found a match for Death itself.” Christophe jabbed, shooting him a wink.

And when Winter’s smile shifted from the proud father to the ecstatic heart, he jumped on Spring and hugged him in a way that rocked the man. “Did you hear that Yuuri? Our little Yura is going to get _married_ to him someday! They’re going to be so cute!”

Yuuri could only laugh in response and indulge Viktor in his enthusiastic hug, but all the while still keeping his eyes on the children. Otabek was misunderstood by many, just as was death. He did not discriminate and was not cruel despite the suffering he brought. He was merely just and took the souls when it was time to depart.

Spring never knew that one day Otabek would be carrying his soul, and he didn’t know that would be the day Yuri grew up.

* * *

 

Yuuri sat in the campus coffee shop wearing an outfit that was _far_ too exquisite for a first date. Honestly, was it really necessary to make him buy a whole new suit for one date?

 _“Yes.”_ Phichit had replied, _“Trust me, if he saw your tie, he’d want to burn it. Now chin up, Yuuri! You’ve got killer thighs and enough hair gel to get any man into your bed. Now go out there and rock his world.”_

It wasn’t the greatest pep talk in the world, but he had to admit Phichit did a decent job with his hair. It was slicked back without looking too oily while complimenting his glasses and suit.

The entrance to the coffee shop chimed, and he heard the greeting of the barista. Yuuri looked to the source and – holy _fuck_.

Thoughts of Mister Long, Tan, and Handsome were a thousand miles away when he spotted this…this piece _of sex on legs._

Yuuri zoned in on the man, who had stopped in the doorway and looked around for a moment before their eyes locked. That second dragged for a long, painful eternity before the other _finally_ approached, never once breaking eye contact.

The man’s eyes were strikingly blue, and Yuri felt like he was seeing tundra and blizzards all at once, but he was also seeing warmth and home. These were eyes that could see into his soul and were so very, _very_ blue.

So why was he expecting gray?

“H-Hello.” Yuuri greeted when he found that he had some semblance of words. He clumsily stood, knocking his chair a bit in the process. God, could he look like more of an idiot? And what had Phichit said his was name again? Viktor. Yeah, his name was Viktor.

Viktor probably already thought he was so stupid for not even getting something as simple as a greeting right and – “Hi.” The voice washed over him and soothed his nerves. “I’m Viktor.”

Slender yet firm fingers found their way towards Yuuri’s hand, pausing for a few stretching seconds, as if wondering if it was really okay to touch, before they wrapped around his hand and brought it to his lips. The touch was electric.

This close, Yuuri could see how gorgeous he was in high definition, and it almost didn’t seem real. However, there were dark circles under his eyes, ones that bore the weight of exhaustion through so many millennia.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The voice returned to being smooth like warm honey. Yuuri felt their fingers twine together. “It’s an honor to be with you tonight.”

The man before him oozed confidence. So why did Viktor look like he was trying so hard not to cry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been nearly three weeks and I'm SO sorry for taking so long to get this out to you all. Life is busy, and so is my beta reader's BUT the response to the last few chapters have been so great and I'm sorry for leaving you off where I did. Also as you can see the rating for this fic went DOWN (sorry guys, no smut). A mature rating wasn't fitting anymore, especially since the next chapter is the last, and I couldn't justify putting in any mature content that didn't further the story. 
> 
> Honestly your support and comments have meant the world to me. Thank you all so much, please keep doing what you guys do best.


	6. Transient

_“Have we met somewhere before?”_

To lie directly to Yuuri’s face was a sin. It was horrible, terrifying even, to watch the wonder in his earthy brown eyes dissipate with a few words. _“I don’t think we have.”_ And by the end of the night, when Yuuri _would_ be in love with him, he would apologize profusely and whisk his husband away in his arms to the heavens.

But right then, Viktor reminded himself, this was not his husband. This was unrealized potential. All the makings of a God sleeping inside a mortal’s soul.

Winter in love with a mortal. Poetic, thought Viktor. Chris would be writing romances of them for the next eternity.

He had taken Yuuri to a restaurant, reservations booked by the life saver that was Phichit. His plan to wine and dine the human and romance his pants off, figuratively or not, was not going smoothly. This Yuuri was his Yuuri through and through, but this Yuuri was also a nervous, horribly virginal ball of anxiety. The man had never been on a date before, something that pleased Viktor, but it also meant that this was Yuuri’s _first date_.

They were married before they even kissed. How did one _date_?

Viktor’s fingers thrummed on the table cloth before working at his bangs. It was at Yuri’s insistence that he cut his hair to look more natural in the human world, and he couldn’t wait until he was normal once more with his flowing locks, the ones Yuuri’s gentle fingers would work flowers into.

Was the food bad? No, Yuuri had eaten half of it already while Viktor had prodded with his fork. Was it the wine? No, couldn’t be because Yuuri was on his second glass. The restaurant had no fault with impeccable service and stylish interior. So by default, the only source of Yuuri’s anxiety was Viktor.

“Yuuri?” Viktor piped up, voice gentle.

“Hm?” The noise was clipped, followed by his posture straightening unnaturally. “I mean, yes?”

Viktor wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss that stress away. “Tell me how you started skating. It’s obviously very important to you.” He both wanted to calm the boy’s nerves and indulge himself.

And there was that sparkle Viktor had become so used to seeing, the flicker of _something_ Viktor could never pinpoint but made him shine brighter than the stars. And Yuuri became more animated as the conversation flowed, not dropping his composure as Viktor rested his chin on his hand, listening to his lover’s voice for the first time in almost a thousand years. It was soft, yet could grab anyone’s attention. Like bells, Viktor mused.

With the boy relaxed, the waiter served them their final course and it Viktor’s insisted on paying— with Phichit’s credit card. He’d make it up to him later. Yuuri, of course, protested although he had not seen the name of his best friend on the card. Viktor then whisked him out of the restaurant and into downtown Detroit.

Viktor had always been a very tactile person with his husband, so he couldn’t help himself when he reached for Yuuri’s hand. He breathed a sigh of relief when their fingers intertwined.

The streets of Detroit were nothing like the fanciful windings in the heavens, but Viktor found that the soft glow of streetlamps illuminated Yuri’s skin and made his eyes sparkle.

“Have you ever been kissed?” The man asked.

Viktor watched Yuuri’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed around his nerves, and a soft “No.” came from his lips. The lips he so badly wanted to kiss.

“Yuuri.” Viktor slowed his walking, and looked directly to the boy. “Forgive me if I’m too forward, but, if you’ll allow me I’d very much like to kiss you right now.” And please, oh please by any power above him let Yuuri say yes. Let him have this again even if it was only for a second.

Please.

And Yuuri nodded.

Yuuri _nodded_ , and suddenly he was coming closer, and finally Viktor felt like life was breathing into him again. Yuuri’s lips were petals, soft and sweet against his own. An arm slipped around Yuuri’s waist and suddenly their chests were pressed together, Viktor unable to restrain himself as he _needed_ Yuuri like he had needed him every second for the past thousands of years.

He knew the two of them must never part again lest he lose his sanity.

Never again.

All too soon Yuuri pulled away, and Viktor chased the kiss. The flush on Yuuri’s cheeks was enough to quell the frustration at having the boy pull away.

“You’re beautiful.” Viktor couldn’t help himself.

Yuuri was flustered to say the very least. Viktor was a wonderful kisser, but the way their lips molded together was like home. It was like katsudon, hot springs, laughter from friends he never knew in this life, and sakura.

It was nostalgic.

It was Viktor.

“Beautiful?” Yuuri tested the word on his tongue.

“An understatement.”

Yuuri’s eyes always sparkled when they were searching for something. Viktor desperately wished he would find what he was seeking.

“You bring beauty to everything you touch.” Viktor added.

Yuuri’s flush flared. “I – I what?” He squeaked.

“Bring beauty.” Viktor repeated. “You always have.” His voice was archaic and melancholy, speaking from a time that was hardly a memory.

The elder pulled back to give Yuuri a chance to breathe and collect himself. He had to adjust to the side of Yuuri that wasn’t used to being worshipped by him on a daily basis. Still, Viktor’s slender fingers flitted up to touch Yuuri’s hair, finding it slicked back masterfully, but found he missed the way it would lay across his forehead, adorned by a crown of sakura he would frost just to tease him.

“Have you had a good night tonight?” Viktor asked, starting to walk once more.

Yuuri found the confidence to squeeze his hand, and nodded. “I have. I was nervous when Phichit set us up, but you’ve turned out to be a very good date.”

Viktor glanced at their reflection in a shop window they passed and saw the two of them standing together, side by side as they always have. This was perfect, he thought, perfect. “Would you want to spend more time with me?”

“I’d be okay with that.”

There was an electronic clock inside one of the stores they passed next, one that read 11:38 PM. Viktor’s heart sped wildly. Twenty-two minutes was all he had.

Twenty-two minutes until the Equinox was over and Otabek was forced to carry Yuuri’s soul once more.

Unless Yuuri loved him.

The date had gone well. Yuuri had settled down, wined and dined, and even given him his first kiss.

But did Yuuri _love_ him?

“Would you be okay with spending eternity with me?” Viktor stopped then, and turned to take both of Yuuri’s hands in his own, looking down into those eyes that he had taken the light from, now filled with nothing but wonder at what was happening.

“I don’t understand.”

“Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice was slow, careful, as if everything were glass. “Are you in love with me?”

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know what they say?” The air was like the arctic, painting everyone’s cheeks scarlet. The wind didn’t affect Winter.

“Mm?” Asked Death.

“They say no one really knows what happened the day that Winter killed Spring. One minute they were happy and the next Spring was frozen on the ground. I don’t know what happened, but I’d put money on it that Winter was framed.” Icy eyes turned to look into Death’s. “Winter didn’t have a damn ounce of evil in him. He was too distracted with love to function properly.” No one may ever know what happened. They _couldn’t_ know what happened, now.

The sound of children’s laughter broke Death’s train of thought, and he looked down to the huddle of boys playing in the snow. “You think he was framed?”  
  
“I don’t trust anyone anymore, not after what happened.” Winter responded, voice as icy as his heart, the one only Death knew how to thaw. “What was the deal with the Equinox anyway?” The God’s wings fluttered in irritation, causing the snow around them to flurry.

“Winter had one day to make Spring fall in love again in order for his memories to be restored. It was an act of forgiveness for his crimes. Spring had to forgive Winter and accept him in that way again. That’s what we were all told. You know that.” Death reached to smooth down his lover’s wings. Winter’s wings.

His husband had aged, Death noticed. He was no longer a child, nor even a teenager. Since the Equinox, he had grown up. Perhaps that’s what they meant when they said Winter did nothing but kill.

“I know. And it was fucked. Everyone knew that it couldn’t happen. No human falls in love in one day. As a human Spring guarded his emotions. He was anxious and hesitant but he wasn’t stupid. It was designed to fail. Everything was set up to _fail_.” Even he had failed. Yuri’s hands tightened into fists, ice beginning to creep up his throat. The only thing keeping him from causing a blizzard was the sight of children below them.

“I know the story from there.” Otabek swallowed, remembering all too freshly the feeling of Yuuri’s human soul in his arms once more. A heart attack, the tabloids had said. The human world mourned the loss of a treasured figure skater. The heavens mourned a friend.

“Viktor’s soul was the heaviest I’ve ever carried.” When he had touched Viktor’s soul, he felt the pain of thousands of years of loneliness and grief. He pitied Winter, but he never told Yuri there was also a flutter of relief in the soul.

After all, Viktor did not have to suffer any longer.

Nothing was perfect. Nothing had a perfect ending. “If the bastard hadn’t relinquished all his power to me, he wouldn’t have died.”

Otabek took Winter’s hand then and rubbed a soothing circle in the back of it with his thumb.

“Maybe one day you can give some of it back.” The two looked down below at the children. They rolled in the snow, accepted and loved it. Snow was fun despite the chill.

Orphanages in St. Petersburg weren’t an ideal place, but it would do.

A snowball was thrown, and it hit a boy in the side of his head, knocking him down and sending his glasses flying. A gloved hand picked up the frames and gently slid them onto the other child’s face.

_“I’m Viktor! Nice to meet you!”_

_“…Yuuri.”_

_Viktor beamed. “Yuuri!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thank you everyone so much for all your support and comments on this work. Every comment and kudos made my day a little brighter, and writing this fic has been one of the things I'm proudest of in a while. I haven't written a multi chapter fic in six years. I'm sorry there isn't more of it, as this was never meant to be a long work in the first place.
> 
> I hope the ending tied some things up, but also left some things to question. This was intentional. I don't think I will visit this universe again, but there may be some more works from me in the future!


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